


Under A Dawnlit Moon

by Thundercatlola



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst and Humor, Animal Transformation, Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, I'm Bad At Summaries, More Chapters Will Be Added, My First Work in This Fandom, Mystery, Original Fiction, Werewolf Biology, Werewolf Culture, Werewolves, Werewolves Turn Into Actual Wolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:53:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27419836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thundercatlola/pseuds/Thundercatlola
Summary: 22-year-old Serafina Rennson didn't want to move to Colorado. She didn't want to go live with her bland aunt in the tiny, split mining town of Rockford... Yet little did she know then that the mysteries and ancient beasts she would discover lurking within the "boring providence" would surpass anything she had ever dreamed of before.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character, Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic, so constructive criticism is appreciated! Just no unnecessary hate. Otherwise, hope you enjoy!

A howl cuts through the winter night like a knife.

The noise is soft at first, a low bay muddled by the whirling wind and snow. But the sound grows steadily, until it spirals outward into a deep, piercing outcry, reaching the ears of three more wolves who patrol through the shadows of the bare treeline side-by-side. The small, creamy white female halts abruptly, deep brown eyes glittering in the darkness. The blonde male beside her stops as well, perking his ears, and the shorter, stormy gray wolf on his left emits a quiet, knowing growl. The trio glance at each other briefly before tearing towards the source of the noise.

It was their warning howl, the one used to alarm fellow packmates of danger. Hunters, rouges, maybe even vampires...

The cry becomes louder, and more desperate as no one answers. The flaxen male bursts out of the frostbitten brush with the dark-eyed female and the scrawny gray-coat at his heels. Even through the cold, black darkness of the winter woods and the swirling flakes of snow, all three can clearly see the silhouettes of a pair of wolves at the far end of the grove. One sits alert, head tilted towards the sky with jaws agape, the source of the importunate howling. The other lays still on the ground with limbs askew, legs bent at awkward angles.

The cream-colored female spots her packmate first and yips in response, causing the howl to break as the relieved admonisher scrambles to her paws and stares the arriving company up and down as they bound over.

 _“Nicki, are you trying to get us in trouble?”_ The sun-furred male doesn't open his muzzle, and yet his snapping voice is heard clear as day, ringing among the throng. _“The warning howl isn’t supposed to used for a… A new-found! We thought something was wrong!”_

 _“There was no one around, Benny!”_ Nicki huffs, her brown-black pelt puffing out in indignation at his tone. _“What do you think I was supposed to do? Leave them here to be found by hunters?”_

 _“You could have tried hauling 'em over to camp.”_ The short gray male, Augustus, states. His tone is cold and nonchalant, pale irises ablaze with annoyance.

 _“No, I couldn’t.”_ Nicki responds sharply, clicking her teeth together. _“Whoever they are, they're injured. Plus, they're covered in so much shit that I didn’t know if carrying them would hurt them or not.”_

Benny shoots her an incredulous glance and bends down, sniffing cautiously at the limp body of the newcomer. The large he-wolf then winces at their foul scent, pawing at his nose. _“Okay, yeah. You're right. Smells like they climbed through a dumpster.”_ He complains with a groan, sitting back on his haunches to try and avoid the stink.

The gold-touched female at Benny’s side, Kera, nudges her older brother away in exasperation and leans forward to have her own examination of the strange new wolf. Fetid slime is splattered all over the new-found’s pelt, clumps of fur clotted together with blood and dirt and sewer sludge. Even with Kera's own keen eyesight, it's very hard to determine what the newcomer may look like under all of the putrid muck.

 _“Where did they come from?”_ The pale wolfess inquires as she peers up at Nicki, but the darker female only shakes her head. _“I don’t know.”_ She replies, icy blue eyes glinting grimly in the twilight.

Kera gazes back down at the unconscious wolf, contemplating. The poor thing seems half-dead, and acts as such. Only the faint rise and fall of the flank shows that they're still kicking.  
 _“We need to wake them up. Make sure they're alright.”_ Kera urges, whining slightly as she glanced around at her packmates.

Benny shakes the snowflakes from his thick ruff and raises one paw awkwardly. Augustus turns his head away in a feign of ignorance, holding himself low to the ground. Nicki rolls her eyes at the boys' cowardice, and nonchalantly steps forward. The brown-black she-wolf forces her hackles to lay flat, but she can't help but growl in disgust at the stench of garbage coating the newcomer’s fur.

 _Hello?”_ She whispers, nudging the stranger carefully in the side. _“Can you hear me?”_

The outsider whimpers lowly at the touch, and begins to stir. Their eyes flutter open slowly, irises a dark, striking emerald green.

_“W-What?... Who…”_

The voice is female. She sounds hoarse, and speaks with difficulty; like she'd just finished running many miles. Her words are slurred somewhat. She mumbles incomprehensibly for a brief moment, and then startles as the realization truly dawns on her that she isn't alone. The filthy, shivering wolfess gapes up at her four saviors through watery eyes, and tucks her grimy paws defensively to her chest.

Silence hangs in the icy air for a long minute.

 _“Hey, you okay? You look like you took quite the beating, foxy.”_ Benny pipes up casually through the silence reigning among the group. The newcomer flinches in apparent surprise at the sound of his voice, prompting Kera to nip Benny hard on the ear for his indifference. The champagne male hops away from his younger sister with an irritated yelp, and this abrupt movement frightens the newcomer, who shrinks in on herself with a whimper and pins her dirty ears against her head.

 _"Stop it you idiots, you're scaring her!"_ Nicki hisses at her friends. She lowers herself onto her front paws, trying to get eye-level with the stranger, and attempts to speak softly. _"Ignore them. Listen, it's okay. We won't hurt you. Our densite isn't too far, and I'm sure our pack would be happy to help you. You got a name?"_

 _"Ser... Serafina... Sera..."_ The new-found rasps, still holding herself arched and tense.

 _"Sera."_ Nicki nods encouragingly, and swivels her head slowly to gaze back at the rest of the band. _"My name is Nicki... And my dumbass friends over here are Kera, Benny and Augustus. So, now that we know who you are... It would help us if we know what happened to you. What are you doing out here?"_

Serafina blinks, shaking her head from side to side as if trying to clear water from her flattened ears. _“I-I don't think I… Remem…”_

She gasps suddenly, slamming her front legs down into the snow as she struggles to jump to her feet. All she succeeds in by this is wobbling around and stumbling into Kera. As her pelt brushes against the other female’s, the new she-wolf yelps in pain and scrabbles away from her in panic. A streak of red blood lies smeared into Kera’s light fur, right where her coat made contact with the new-found’s.

 _“Calm down, you’re hurt!”_ Nicki barks in alarm then, practically barreling into the newcomer in an attempt to calm her down. The sewage-covered wolfess pants helplessly, staring into Nicki’s ice-blue eyes in a mixture of fear and confusion. Distress is rolling off of her in waves, so tangible that Nicki can almost taste her fear. _“Please… Don’t kill me…”_ Sera whimpers, cringing beneath the broader she-wolf's paws.

 _“Kill you?”_ Nicki tilts her head in surprise and immediately backs away. _"No, we- We just want to help!"_

The newcomer anxiously rubs a paw over her muddy muzzle. She stands hunched and quivering like a thin leaf in the breeze, her tail tucked between her legs. _“But… B-But they killed my aunt!..”_ The she-wolf bursts out into a wailing howl which wracks her flanks. _“And now they want me too...”_ She whines miserably.

Nicki, Benny, Augustus and Kera lock gazes, all four gawking at the she-wolf trembling wretchedly in their midst.

 _“They?..”_ Nicki repeats, feeling uneasiness flutter in her chest as she inhales Serafina's terrified demeanor. _“Who are 'they'?”_


	2. Welcome to Rockford

_Three weeks earlier..._

Glassy brown eyes gaze out the window, past the raindrops freezing on the glass and beyond the battered trees crowded along the narrow, icy country road. Serafina absentmindedly taps on the pane with long, acrylic nails. She pays no attention to her Aunt Winnie, who is droning on and on from the driver's seat.

The late November sky outside the car is filled with flat, wavy gray clouds, which send sprinkles of sleet splashing against the windows and pattering down to slowly pool into the dent on the hood of Winnie’s red Toyota Prius. Curled autumn leaves are blown against the windshield by the storm breeze, and Sera's attention swirls about with the wind. She watches as another flurry of wet leaves gets swept along the side of the car, creasing up and over to plaster themselves stubbornly into the windows.

“...and I'm telling you it was just the _cutest_ little thing... Er... Serafina?”

Sera straightens up in her seat and blinks back to attention, looking over to see her aunt glancing at her with concern.

Aunt Winnie was five years older than Amanda, Serafina's mother, and worked as chief surgeon in Lower Rockford, a small mining town right near the Rocky Mountain range in Colorado. She’d been living there for a very long time- twenty-five years, to be exact- ever since she married Serafina's Uncle Robert. Winnie had refused to move even after Robert succumbed to his Alzheimer's, stating that too many memories had been conceived in their house for her to just _leave_.

Winnie was a gaunt-looking woman, with cloudy eyes and washed-out clothes. She'd aged rapidly from stress and grief, and almost always looked to be in a continuous state of frailty. Her meek appearance fooled everyone she met both in her workplace and out- she was a stubborn and outspoken woman. Nobody would ever guess, from the way pale, wrinkled hands clutch at the driving wheel and a bobbing head full of gray-streaked hair checks over one bony shoulder before merging into the next lane.

“Are you okay, kiddo?” She asks.

Sera tugs at a long lock of auburn hair as she answers, managing a wry smile. "I guess... I'm just trying to adjust to everything. This... just... Well, it all happened really fast."

"I know this is hard, Sera." Winnie gives her passenger a nod of sympathy. "I probably should've addressed the elephant in the room sooner. I'm..." She takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry about your parents' divorce."

"S' alright." Her niece replies stiffly, head turning once again to the window so Winnie can't see how her face is flushing with anger. "I can't say I'll miss my dad too much anyway. Mom's happier now without him, and that has to count for something."

"What about Rowan?" Aunt Winnie questions as she fumbles with the turn signal. "How's your little sister doing?"

Serafina's grin grows a little more genuine. "She's been a real trooper, that's for sure. Her last couple scans have come back clean. She's very excited about getting back to school, even if it is just till further notice."

"That's wonderful!" Winnie crows, a rare smile tugging at the corners of her weathered lips. "Y'know, I'm really looking forward to seeing her over Christmas- if, of course, your mother allows it... Oh, look to your right, dear! Here we are!"

She points with one jutting finger to Sera's far right, where a chipped navy blue sign with white print sits rooted into the yellowing grass.

**Welcome to**   
**Lower Rockford**   
**Population: 5,500**

"You'll come to like this place, I promise." The elderly woman hums enthusiastically as she drives further down the main path, but her light tone sounds a little forced to Serafina. "It's very friendly, and the scenery is absolutely beautiful when the weather clears up. There's plenty of jobs available in town too!"

"...No offense Auntie, but I don't think waitressing is gonna get me out of debt." Sera snorts in disbelief, crossing her arms. "My bank account's already on the end of the road to Hell. That's why I'm sitting in this car, isn't it?"

As if she'd just jinxed it, the vehicle suddenly lurches to a stop. Sera yelps in alarm as the brakes squeal and her head is thrown back against the headrest. She glances wildly over at Winnie, and finds her aunt clenching the wheel with white knuckles. She's leaning over the dash, staring at something ahead along the road with wide, shocked eyes.

"What happened? What's the matter?" Sera asks, shifting around in her seat worriedly. She strains over the dashboard, peering to see what was frightening her aunt so badly.

And that's when she sees the lumpy bag of black plastic sitting in the middle of the path into town, with the arm flung out at the top. The thin, white arm of a corpse.

Very friendly indeed.

*

"Time of death: roughly fourteen hours ago. Cause of death: exsanguination." Winnie sighs deeply as she sets the copy of the autopsy report down on the weathered wooden table. "The only injuries found were two pairs of symmetrical, circular puncture wounds. One was on the victim's neck, the other on their wrist. ID is still private." She rifles briefly through the pages for another moment before leaning back and running a hand through her silver-streaked hair. "Lord above... I'm sorry you had to see that, Sera."

"It's okay." Serafina responds wearily. The redhead flops down on the couch and stares dejectedly at the ceiling, tossing her feet over one green armrest. "I've been studying martial law enforcement for a couple years now. Maybe it's better that I'm exposed to some of the chaos early on." She exhales slowly.

Aunt Winnie furrows her eyebrows slightly. She leans back, crossing her arms and sagging right into the kitchen counter. "I was planning to celebrate your arrival a little by picking up a rotisserie for dinner, but I guess that's not an option anymore. It's already dark out, and... I'm not so sure if I'm in the mood to get back out on the road."

"You can say that again." Sera grunts in agreement. "Do you mind if I take a shower before dinner, Auntie?"

"Just be quick." Winnie answers as she goes to open the pantry. "The water heater isn't very good, and rinsing your scalp with liquid ice is never fun."

Serafina manages a small chuckle as she slides off the sofa. The sounds of clanging bowls and Winnie's footsteps echo close behind as she pads into the guest room and pauses, taking yet another minute to survey the clustered sleeping space she would call her own for... Well, only God knew how long. It was a plain, square little room adorned with small rustics: the carving of a stag perched proudly on the nightstand, faint stencils of lumbering bears and falling leaves printed on the fading green walls, a flannel quilt tucked carefully at the end of the bed. The large window on the right wall provided a view of the grassy yard, which was coated in fresh ice and mottled in crystal shades of crinkled red, orange and yellow as pieces of freezing autumn foliage were stirred by the wind.

All the belongings Sera brought from her old dorm were already unpacked, with the empty suitcase pushed under the bed and backpack resting against the footboard. Her few personal valuables sat positioned creatively around the simple room, trying to fill the plain space with some color. The redhead crouches down and grabs her bag of toiletries, only to jump right out of her skin when a string of blood-curdling howls erupt dangerously close to the house. Sera bolts upright, letting the ziplock bag slam back onto the floor as she rushes back out into the den. "What the hell is that?!"

"Don't worry, dear. It's just the wolves again!" Winnie calls back calmly from the kitchen, without looking up from the salad she's tossing together.

"Again?" Serafina coughs, still alarmed by the frightening proximity of the noise. "Jesus, you look like you barely flinched! How often does this happen?"

"Every month or so." Winnie chuckles a little at the incredulous look her niece shoots her from across the counter. "On the night of the first full moon, I think. They always sound like they're getting ready for a hunt."


	3. Midnight Hunt

Sera grumpily pulls her head out from under the pillow.

The alarm's glowing green face reads _12:31 am_. She groans.

The howling ceased a while ago, but the redhead still can't sleep. She stares desperately at the sliver of moonlight peeking between the curtains, like it would knock her out if only she wished hard enough. She huffs and slides out of bed, marching to the drapes and yanking them wide open. It's very tempting to just bang on the glass and scream in frustration...

As glazed green eyes drift over the frosted lawn, blanketed with crisp fall colors in a thin sheen of ice, Sera sees something stir in the shadows outside the house. A flash of fur in the night, the glint of eyes in the darkness.

The late autumn mist slinks over the leaf-strewn grass in the distance. Soft, white light winks over the frigid earth as the full moon breaks through a thin gap dotted in the flat clouds. With the pale illumination, Serafina jolts in fear as she spies the heavily-built beast prowling into the yard.

Four stocky limbs, wide shoulders, thick grey fur, a broad head and forest-colored eyes glowing like green lanterns in the dark.

A wolf.

Serafina swallows hard and grips at the windowsill to steady herself. Her heart begins to pound in her chest as she scrutinizes the beautiful creature. Those intelligent green eyes, in particular, are captivating... She doesn't realize the entrancement until her breath starts to fog up the window.

By the time she's noticed and wiped away the cloud, the wolf is gone- already melted back into the cover of the night.

 _Maybe I could go after it?.._ She wonders fleetingly.

A strange, uncharacteristic impulse begins to stir within her. It grows more restless the longer she ponders, until her temples ache with the weight of thought. Was this really a good idea, chasing after a wild animal?

 _The more time you waste, the more unlikely it is of finding it._ The notion is almost hissing in her ear, like the serpent that tempted Eve.

She could just slip out for a quick minute... Make sure the animal wasn't hanging around the house...

Serafina creeps carefully through the den and past the door, trying her best to stay quiet. The low mist wreathes around her ankles as she sneaks around the side of the house and steps cautiously into the backyard.

Frozen grass and leaves crunch with every step; nearly deafening in the silent night. She can see the treeline despite the distance at which she stands; shrouded in pale gloom. Miles and miles of dark pine, oak and elm, most of their frost-tipped needles fallen and leaves painted warm in preparation for winter. Then she sees it again, sitting so still it could have been carved out of stone. It’s jaws are parted slightly, teeth glistening with saliva in the low light.

_Is that thing... waiting for me?_

As the wolf sticks out it's muzzle, black gums pulling back against white fangs, the spell is broken. Dread rushes through Sera's veins in a flash of heat, sparking life back into her numb limbs with a jolt of adrenaline. Her breath hitches in her throat and she expects the creature to lunge at her right there and then.

But it doesn't spring, or snap, or even growl. It just rises onto large, bulky paws and strides around the redhead slowly, carefully, like she's a deer it's sizing up before the pounce. It's powerful body sways slightly from side to side, fading in and out of the fog like some monstrous ghost. It looks to be of a very abnormal size- it’s head almost reaches Sera's shoulders.

_Are wolves supposed to be that big?_

Adrenaline is tingling all throughout her body, but the girl knows she is powerless in this situation. She can't run or fight this creature, and that knowledge makes fear pool in the pit of her stomach. This thing is going to rip her into little red pieces.

Serafina grimaces at her own stupidity, hardly daring to breathe as the wolf draws near with clicking teeth. The animal takes it's time in approaching, pacing around the girl like it's going to lunge at any moment. Instead it pauses right in front of her, so close she could have traced the gingery-brown markings above it's eyes. Hot breath presses heavily against Sera's pale face as the wolf exhales.

Those eyes… Were even more captivating up close. An unnatural intelligence was shining in the green irises, a force which she definitely did not want to provoke.

The wolf suddenly lowers it’s huge head and roughly pushes its nose into the folds of the redhead's coat, checking out her scent. It proceeds to sniff her up and down, taking in the aromas of her clothes and her trembling hands. It travels warily around Sera's stone-stiff body, wide shoulders occasionally bumping against her chest.

As the wolf finally finishes up with it’s inspection and backs away, Serafina notices with a pang of unease that it’s lower jaw is drawn up tight, upper teeth protruding out to form a snide, twisted kind of half-smile. It almost looks like one a human might make... But she doesn't get the time to truly react to this.

Without another moment’s hesitation, the wolf lunges for Serafina's throat with jaws agape.

She acts on pure reflex. Throwing her arm in front of her neck in a vain attempt to shield it, a scream is ripped from the girl as teeth like razors clamp down onto her forearm, sending hot, fiery pain shooting further up into her arm and down the wrist. Then the wolf, further frenzied by the scent of blood, drags Sera mercilessly across the icy lawn and throws her into a crumpled heap at the edge of the yard. The animal runs it's tongue over it's bloody maw and growls, low and jeering, as it towers over it's prey in the darkness.

There's the harsh crack of bullets then; metallic clanging of shots firing blindly into the night. The wolf whimpers at the loud, abrupt noise and pins it's ears back, scrambling away from Sera and across the flat plain leading back into the forest.

Aunt Winnie emerges from around the left side of the house, dressed in only a ruffled bathrobe and cocking Uncle Robert’s rusty hunting rifle. Serafina stares at her aunt in hazy disbelief, unaware for a moment of the dull pain and the blood staining her coat as she clutches her wounded arm to her chest. Groaning, the girl curls into a ball in the gelid grass as the world starts to spin around her.

Winnie throws the shotgun aside and races to her niece, tugging a flashlight from her robe pocket. “Sera, are you okay?! What in God's name was that thing?!” She frets, pulling the redhead up by her shoulders with surprising strength. Serafina wordlessly turns over her arm, exposing the soft underside, and holds it out so her aunt look.

“I-It was a wolf...” The girl stammers in a daze, barely resisting the urge to vomit as she glances down at her oozing arm. Colorful spots are dancing before her eyes.

“Lord Almighty…” Winnie gasps, staring at the wound in horror. “That beast bit right into your cephalic...”

"Is that... Why... I'm bleeding so much?" Serafina blinks dumbly down at her grisly wound. Her muddled mind is swirling with drowsiness at the blood loss, making it hard for anything to register. Twelve ugly, red-purple gouges puncture the skin of her forearm; the aftermath of the wolf's black jaws.

By what Winnie would later explain to her, the animal’s fangs had ripped through Serafina's cephalic vein, a vital blood vessel running from the hand all the way to the shoulder.

The bleeding is ceasing, but a buildup of pus is forming around the imprints of the tooth marks. Sera's lethargy ebbs as she finally acknowledges the pain, hot and piercing, which clears the smoke before her eyes. Anger ripples through her as she notes that the flesh around the wound is already swelling, the skin tinted pink. The gashes are starting to itch like crazy.

“Rabies?” She spits out through gritted teeth, feeling as though fire ants are crawling all over her forearm. The itch is turning into a burn.

“I hope not.” Winnie breathes, as she softly touches the edges of the wound with the tips of her fingers. The burn intensifies as she does so, and Sera lets out an unexpected snarl of irritation as she wrenches her arm away from her aunt's delicate grasp. Winnie jumps, startled by the sudden outburst, and the fire of momentary rage roaring within her niece dwindles down into sparks of guilt as the girl slowly extends her arm back out.

“I’ll call 911. We can get it bandaged here, but you need a hospital.” Sera's aunt chides urgently as she helps the redhead to her feet.

Aunt Winnie hurries with Sera back around the side of the house, almost physically dragging the girl along. Sera stumbles through the frozen dirt and clutches at her impaired arm, fumbling to look over her shoulder and take one last sweeping glance over the silent forest looming behind them through the mist.

Before she rounds the corner back into the house, she swears she can see those feral, forest-green eyes glowering at her from the darkness marking the inky border of the woods.


	4. Down the Rabid Hole

Sera can barely remember the trip to the hospital.

It'd been a blurring whirl of overwhelming sounds and smells, where the only lingering memories composed of strong disinfectant and harsh fluorescents. Murmuring questions had floated through one ear and out the other while doctors had crowded 'round, prodding and poking at the girl's wound. Winnie had paced in the background through it all, trying to keep her niece from snarling at the medics for their indifference.

The only constant of that whole midnight outing was the dull, throbbing pulse of Sera's arm as blood leaked from the gash. It's one of the only vivid things she can recall even now, a full week later, as she lies in bed with pounding temples and a deep-seated smart in her bones.

She can remember how much the gouge burned that night, and itched like mite was burying into her skin. How the festering sensation made her feel so agitated that she nearly tried to take a chunk out of the nurse's hand when the woman first laid gloved fingers on the wound.

After the events of that late evening visit, she’d concluded that she didn’t want to go back to the doctors for a long time. But her bite clearly has other ideas.

The skin is puckering around her stitches, swelling in scabbed speckles of whitish-pink. As Sera carefully traces her nails along the edges of the mottled rash forming there, anger bubbles up within her chest like hot magma.

She’d gone far to block out the mental image of the wolf- the source of her new trauma- and had somewhat succeeded. The picture of it’s powerful body grows more distorted in her mind’s eye by the day, shimmering like a mirage of water in a desert. But the memory of it’s glittering green eyes- glaring, cunning, _insightful_ \- is staying branded into her brain like a searing iron. 

She can see those eyes every time she closes her own.

It makes her want to scream.

Serafina bites her tongue and throws off the covers, unable to stifle a gasp as pangs shoot through her sore body. She tries to swallow down the lump of fury knotting in her throat; tries to blink back the headache hammering behind her lids. 

The girl shuffles out into the kitchen haphazardly, stiff muscles tugging in protest against her movements. She finds Winnie reeling around at the stove, chattering into the phone tucked to her right ear while frantically trying to scrape burning eggs from the frying pan.

Sera pops off the cap of her rabies medication and swiftly swallows the pill dry before setting the bottle back on the counter. She still doesn't know why the prescription was bothered with; all rabies tests had come back negative at the hospital. Winnie glimpses her niece from the corner of her eye and mouths a quick “good morning” before turning back and speaking into the landline again. “Are you positive? My lunch break is only half an hour, Jane. I don’t think either of us have the time for that…”

The redhead quietly rifles through the overhead kitchen cabinets behind her aunt, tuning Winnie’s prattle out into the background as she searches for painkillers. She rolls her shoulders slowly in discomfort, and slides a hand to her aching lower back.

“I’ll see you around 1:00 then, Jane… Yes, bye-bye.” Winnie’s chirping farewell trails down into an exasperated huff as she sets the phone back into the cradle. “My goodness, what a demanding young lady! That intern is almost as-”

“Did you move the Ibuprofen?” Sera interrupts, somewhat crudely. She grunts and crouches down, hunching over in an awkward bend as she continues with her search. “It’s still in the cupboard next to the microwave.” Winnie frowns and turns back towards the sink to wash out the pan, but the worry lines at her forehead crease a little. “Sera, do you feel alright?”

"Achy. But I'll be fine soon."

Sera ducks her head, hiding a wince as she fishes out the Advil bottle and pops two pills without pause. A mini gun-salute of cracks twinge through her body as she fully stands, eliciting a grimace from the girl. She hunts around in the pantry for some breakfast of her own while Winnie attempts to make conversation.

"Did you hear any word from the diner, or the station?" The elderly woman asks, a bit awkwardly, while rinsing out the frying pan.

"Wha? No' yet..." Her niece mumbles sullenly and comes shambling out with a bagel clenched between her teeth and hands filled with ripped coffee filters. "Diner didn't nee' moe people. Think the ranger kin'a like my inter'iew though."

"That's good..." Winnie muses. "Well, you know what you have to get done while I'm gone today. Just, uh..." She shoots the redhead a sideways smile. "Don't bother cleaning my desk. That's my mess to sift through."

*

Sera paces restlessly around the den as she tries to count the falling snowflakes, attempting to give herself something calming to do while she waits for her aunt. Cleaning and running errands had occupied her for most of the day, but now that she's finished with chores she can't seem to find a quiet way to fill her mind. Winnie had called a while ago to say that the blizzard was going to slow her trip home significantly. 

The girl's forearm still itches something fierce beneath the tight bandages. Muted pain still ripples through her muscles; gnaws at her bones.

It may be subdued, but it's there. And as long as it is, Serafina wants desperately to distract herself from it.

So the redhead arms herself with a rag and marches into Winnie's bedroom without much second thought.

She doesn't mean to hover in there for long... Just the amount of time it takes to get the thick layer of dust wiped off the woodwork. Sera moves quickly from the nightstand to the headboard and dresser, but pauses once she turns towards Winnie's work desk. 

It sits in the far corner, and every square inch of table is cluttered with books, paperwork, pens and medical files. Barely any cracks of rough walnut wood peer up between the amassing piles of papers and writing supplies. Her aunt's laptop sits open and dark-faced, probably hosting some kind of aesculapian slides.

"...Since when did a little tidying up ever hurt anyone?" The redhead shrugs to herself after a minute of internal debate, and walks over to neaten the stacks of desk work. She closes the computer and begins to sift apart the patient files from the administrative documents, as well as digging pencils and books out from under the mess.

It's while groping for a particularly stubborn pen stuck beneath a heap of hospital records that her fingers brush over a small indent in the desktop.

Sera halts. Slowly, cautiously, she reruns her hand over the notch in the wood and presses down on it with one nail. The redhead then sharply jerks her hand to the right. The panel grinds against rutted grooves, but with some persisting it finally slides away, revealing a small compartment in the table filled to the brim with photos and even more papers.

But these aren't anything medical-related, from what she can tell. There are recycled newspaper articles, pages torn out of what appear to be library books, speculation paragraphs copied from online articles, old black and white pictures with fuzzy sheens... 

**Myth or Reality? The Legend of the Werewolf Virus**

**Home of the Supernatural: Rockford's Joint Mayors Respond to Ghastly Reports**

**Outbreak of Rabies Leaves Doctors Scrambling For Answers**

_What are you hiding from me, Auntie?_

Time seems to come to a complete stop as Sera stands, reading through ludicrous discoveries, for what feels like hours. The girl pours over the majority of Winnie’s private stash, the repeating words of _werewolf_ and _haunted_ and _rabies_ peeling off their pages to float in front of her wide eyes. The itch of her rash seems to intensify the deeper she dives into the contents of the hidden compartment. 

The redhead studies several reports of local murders, stumbles upon more than a dozen prescriptions for rabies medication, and spies multiple accounts of wild animal- specifically wolf- attacks. There is also a copy of town history records pulled from the local library in there, which describes the split of the old mining town into two individual settlements- Upper and Lower Rockford. The photos expose captured images of abnormally large, prowling animals with gleaming eyes.

According to town legend, before Rockford was officiated in 1895 and long before the settlement split, it had been a sanctuary for supernatural beings fleeing the mythical paranoia which sparked after the Salem Witch Trials. Monsters such as vampires and werewolves had supposedly sought safety in the town, and it was rumored that the descendants still dwelled in Rockford…

_Maybe- no. No, that’s insane. Things like this don’t exist. There’s no way you contracted some kind of **werewolf** virus. That’s not possible… _

But the restrained memories of that dreadful night begin to emerge nonetheless, and it dawns on Sera that the wolf which had lured her straight into its fangs had been too big, too expressive, too… Wrong. It had shown an unnatural intelligence that normal animals didn’t have. 

_Think, Rennson… You showed symptoms of rabies, but all tests came back negative…_

“No.” The girl speaks out loud then, shaking her head back and forth as her heart starts to thump madly. She tries to stomp out the sparks of panic sizzling to life in her chest; mumbling to herself. ”It was a wolf. Just a wolf. Just a wolf!”

The rumble of the garage door, which marks Winnie’s arrival back to the house, gets the redhead to snap out of her fearful trance. She frenziedly stuffs the conspiracy papers back into the hidden compartment on the desktop and slides the small panel back over with a muffled slam.

The redhead rushes out of the room to go greet her aunt, and in her haste leaves the dusting rag lying sprawled out in the center of the desk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. If you caught the pun in the title after reading this, then you are now my new favorite person. XD


	5. If Only

Serafina jolts awake in the wee hours of the morning, thrashing and screaming in agony.

She thinks she’s being boiled alive. Her skin is burning so violently that she feels her flesh has been doused in gasoline and set on fire. Her bones feel like they’re smoldering into dark ash; muscles being eaten away by liquid magma, veins boiling aflame with poison.

The redhead senses bile rising in her throat, but her esophagus is closing up in panic. Every heaving inhale she takes heightens the stinging in her lungs. She can’t swallow, can’t breathe. Cold sweat soaks through her collar.

The door of her room suddenly slams open so fiercely that the metal knob leaves a visible nick in the wall. A blinding gleam overcomes Serafina’s streaming eyes as her aunt flicks on the lights.

“Sera! Sera baby, what’s wrong?! What’s wrong?” Winnie shouts in terror as she takes hold of her niece’s flailing arms, trying to steady her.

“IT HURTS!!” The girl wails through gasping breaths, kicking her legs around under the tangled covers like a distressed, rearing horse. “MAKE IT STOP! PLEASE!! MAKE IT STOP!!”

The redhead’s face is deathly pale in the brightness of the bedroom lights. Anguished tears cascade down her cheeks. She hyperventilates and grapples frantically for Winnie with shaking hands, until the blistering sensation flares. Seizing fingers curl into Sera’s palms as she’s spurred into another bout of tortured cries. Her breath rattles painfully in her withering lungs; she can only imagine organ and tissue charring into black dust as the fire in her body consumes everything.

Winnie’s voice rings distantly above, laced with fear. Her niece can't see her- her vision is too blurred with tears. “Hang on honey, I’m calling the ambulance! Just hang on!”

It’s the last thing Sera hears before she blacks out from the pain.

*

Dark eyes flicker and strain under jarring fluorescents. Cold fingers curl against thin sheets. Two voices murmur nearby; low words jumbling apart beyond Sera’s comprehension as she struggles to keep conscious.

_“It’s been only two weeks since your niece’s last admittance, Dr. Lucien. Really, I don’t think signing the discharge papers would be the wisest decision...”_

_"Are you questioning my judgement, Dr. Blake?”_

Fading in, fading out. Black, then white.

_“Ma’am, something is clearly wrong with this young woman. We can’t-”_

_“We can and we will, Doctor. I am her current guardian… I choose what is best for her both as my niece and my patient. I choose discharge.”_

Winnie brushes one warm, weathered hand over Sera’s cheek. The girl tries to lean into the delicate touch and musters a noise of protest; blinking open heavy lids. Blinding white light illuminates a fuzzy halo around her aunt’s face, dimming Winnie’s wrinkled features into one bland mess.

“Oh, my... Serafina? Sera, can you hear me?” Winnie asks softly, leaning down slightly to cup her niece’s face. The redhead is too overwhelmed to respond; her eyes are flying around the room, pupils contracting in the glaring atmosphere. She stares at Dr. Blake for a moment with obvious chagrin, which makes the nurse practitioner wince awkwardly from his position at the foot of the hospital bed.

Winnie follows her niece’s gaze, and quickly clears her throat. “Dr. Blake, you may be excused. Please tell the office that I’ll be down soon.” She chirps briskly.

The nurse, Dr. Blake, glances between his colleague and her patient briefly. He looks a little exasperated, but turns out nonetheless. Not a moment after he closes the door behind himself, Serafina throws her arms around her aunt’s thin neck, almost causing the older woman to trip as Sera pulls her in and melts against one bony shoulder.

“I thought I was dying…” The girl whispers hoarsely through the lump of unspoken words knotting in her throat. “What was it?.. Why did it?..”

Her aunt takes a deep breath, and leans back a little so she can look her niece in the eye. Sera recognizes the grim expression the older woman wears, and swallows hard. 

Winnie brushes a stray strand of auburn hair behind her niece’s ear and sighs. “Serafina, listen to me... We ran tests and everything's come back negative. There is nothing wrong with you.”

Sera’s heart seems to drop into her stomach. “B-But the burning, the pain?” She shakes her head firmly, and wrings trembling fingers together in her lap. “Auntie, I wasn’t faking any of it, I swear!..”

“I know, honey.” Winnie answers calmly. “And I have to confess that I haven’t been completely honest with you lately. I should have told you this weeks ago. If only I'd…” She exhales; long and heavy. Her lined mouth twists into a bitter smile as she takes hold of her niece’s slender hands once more. “I knew from the moment I saw that awful bite wound of yours that it wasn’t the work of any ordinary predator… I knew it was a werewolf bite.”

Serafina’s eyes bug out of her head in pure disbelief. She wants to choke out a laugh, but all air has flown from her lungs. Her blood's frozen in her veins. All she can do is curl her fingers tightly in Winnie’s creased hands and dig sharp nails into pale skin in a desperate attempt to ground herself. 

“I was kicking myself from that moment on, for not warning you sooner. I was considering showing you my stash, but I knew that if I did it was likely you wouldn’t take me seriously.” Winnie laughed to herself dryly. “How could your aunt- a surgeon, a _logician_ \- ever obsess over the things that go bump in the night?”

Sera is trembling. Quiet rage melts the cold from her bloodstream; chips of ice slowly turning to smoking embers. The only words she can spit out in her seething state are “Why keep a stash in the first place?”

“Because,” Her aunt sighs again. “your Uncle Robert was a werewolf too.”

And just with those few words, the paralyzing cold is returning to Sera’s blood. 

“He underwent his first transformation long before he ever met me, of course.” Winnie continues, unaware of how her niece has turned as stiff as a statue. “It took him even longer before he finally confessed… That’s when I started the records, almost fifteen years ago.”

“I went through those records.” The redhead states bleakly. “When I was cleaning your desk a while ago. That’s why...”

“Why I didn’t want you in my bedroom, yes.” Winnie affirms. Her thumbs rub in comforting circles over Sera’s clenched hands. “I found the rag you’d used. That’s when I knew I couldn’t pretend it wasn’t happening anymore. The metamorphosis occurs at the end of the third week... We have about 6 days. It's only a matter of time.”

“I don't want this.” There’s a quiver in her niece’s voice. “I don't want to do this shit, I...” She blinks haphazardly. The salty tears which roll down her cheeks are raw and painful- tiny burning spikes burrowing into the flesh where the drops land. A harsh, angry sob claws its way up her throat.

“Oh, Sera. I’m so sorry.” Winnie pulls her niece back into her embrace, running her fingers soothingly through tangled red locks. “Listen: I _will not_ leave your side when it happens. I’ll help you through the transformation, baby, I promise.”

Serafina has so many questions. Her mind’s whirling a mile a minute, trying to process all the new information she’s just been handed. A growing headache smarts behind her eyes. She doesn’t respond; just branches her arms around Winnie’s back and huddles close within her aunt’s hold like a drowning girl who clings to a rock in the midst of an ocean storm. 


	6. Come Undone

Snowflakes flurry outside in a howling whirlwind, dusting the barren bodies of trees and packing together to knit a blanket of twinkling white over the earth. Cold gusts press against the windows and scrape at the side of the house as if searching for cracks in the foundation to slither through. The winter storm is terrible, but it will leave a certain beauty behind when it dies.

That’s how Winnie likened Sera’s oncoming transformation.

But as the girl hunches over the seat of the toilet, gall burning deep in her throat as she retches, she begs awfully to differ. Conversion Syndrome is absolutely miserable.

Winnie had defined the ailment as a viral disease, similar to rabies. Bacteria in the saliva of the werewolf’s mouth wells up in the old pus surrounding the area of the bite wound. During the third week, the bite punctures fully fade into scarring and the pus naturally drains. It flushes out the built bacteria into the bloodstream, to take over the central nervous system and “tune the body” for upcoming transformation. 

_Tune the body, my ass._

Conversion Syndrome was just days of dealing with fitful nausea and the bite of bile, of starving for food that would just come back up again hours later. Days stuck in bed with a raging fever, shivering and burrowing under blankets that would be kicked off minutes later. Days of cramps that were barely tolerable, days of limping through the house in a strange shuffle-walk, days of always feeling exhausted no matter how long or hard one slept…

Days full of the sheerest _pain_ Serafina had ever experienced in her twenty-four years.

She wasn’t stupid; she knew the human body preparing itself for metamorphosis wasn’t going to be all roses and sunshine…

She just didn’t expect it to be as truly horrible as _this_.

“Ughh… Son of a bitch…” Sera gasps for breath as she finishes emptying the contents of her stomach. Feeble hunger gnaws low at her sides as she leans back, wiping her mouth with one shaky hand. The points of her canine teeth poke down against the skin beneath her bottom lip as she does so, eliciting a sound from the girl that’s halfway between a grumble and a whimper.

Some things about Conversion Syndrome are less easy to disregard as symptoms of your common stomach flu. The redhead’s sick craving for raw meat is one, as well as how her canines have extended slightly and lie unnaturally sharp against her lower gums. The brewing temper is another; her anger towards Winnie’s coddling is violent and she constantly has to suppress the urge to scratch her aunt’s eyes out. 

Sera flushes the toilet and stumbles to her feet. Her aching joints scream in protest against the forced movement, straining muscle and tendon alike. Heat flares along the girl’s skin, sending her to grip at the sink with fumbling hands as she tries to wash out her mouth.

_Breathe. Just breathe._

She can’t. It’s like an icy claw is gripping her around the middle, crushing the air from her lungs. Goosebumps crawl down clammy flesh, raising the hairs on her arms.

The girl’s fingers brush around the edges of her scarred bite. Nails trace a delicate outline over the sliced pink lines and dipping marks which once showed fang punctures. 

Serafina dares a glance upward into the mirror, and grimaces in distaste when she sees her reflection. 

An ashen complexion, hollowing cheeks and sickly gaze all make up the face of her ill doppelganger. The mirror image stares dully back from the other side of the glass over a pair of dark circles hanging beneath her eyes. Sweat glazes her bare skin over in a glassy sheen. 

“Sera? Sera dear, you’ve been in there a while. Do you need any help?”

Aunt Winnie’s fretting question floats under the crack in the bathroom door. The redhead snaps away from her haunting image in the mirror and runs a quick hand through her hair. “I’m coming out right now!” She calls back, but her rasping voice shapes the words as harsher than intended.

Her aunt is still hovering by the door like a whimpering dog, threading her fingers together when Sera finally staggers out. The girl has gotten used to the anxious glint in Winnie’s dark eyes; the way she keeps pursing her lips in careworn worry. 

What she can’t seem to get over is the melancholy face her aunt pretends not to wear while she’s around. Sera has to remind herself that she jogs memories of Winnie’s late husband; of those final months in Robert’s life where his wife helped care for him in hospice. Winnie may have stated more than once that he didn’t recognize her, just passed her off as one of the nurses- but the redhead knows that didn’t make it any less painful for her aunt.

The shadows resting beneath Sera’s eyes, the weariness lining her face… Winnie had seen these things before. A loss of light in the eyes, the color from the skin, the smile crinkles from the corners of the mouth.

She was a surgeon. She saw these things every day; so often that one would think it shouldn’t be hurting her anymore.

But it still does, because Winnie always cared. About her family, her patients; really anyone who ever had the fortune of meeting her. And this comprehension makes the rage dissipate, causing Serafina to turn red with shame.

“Oh dear, your face is flushing again.” Winnie murmurs then, hurrying forward and cupping her hands against Sera’s cheeks. She leans in to check her niece’s temperature, and this time Sera manages to swallow the growl of irritation trying to claw its way up her brittle throat. “Yeah, ‘cause I just threw up.” Croaks the redhead. “I said there was too much chicken in the chicken noodle...” 

Winnie sighs a little as she pulls back, still holding Sera’s face. “We gotta get something in you.” She frowns. “Robert always fared better during the full moon when he wasn’t hungry. Told me it dulls the hunting instinct a little bit.”

“You said he never talked about the very first transformation... Maybe it’s different. I can’t keep anything down...” Sera shrugs weakly. A loud popping noise clicks from her shoulders as she settles, making both her and her aunt wince.

“What about oatmeal?” Winnie hums a little in thought. “We haven’t tried it yet. It’s plain, easy on the stomach.” 

An indignant protest tugs at the corners of Sera’s cracked lips, but she keeps her mouth shut and inhales slowly through her nose, trying to remain calm. _Winnie just wants to help you. Let her._

“Okay.” 

*

The oatmeal tastes bland and earthy, but at least the first couple spoonfuls don’t make her gag. As Sera tentatively spoons her way through the bowl, her grim gaze keeps flitting to the little timer above the stove. It’s blocky red digits read _2:43 pm_.

“Honey, you have to stop counting the minutes. It won’t help.”

The wooden chair across from where Sera sits screeches back, and suddenly her aunt is in front of her, mercifully blocking the view of the tiny clock that teases her near future. The girl sighs and nudges the oatmeal away at Winnie’s arrival, exhausted eyes skimming over the drawn lines of her aunt’s face, her silvery hair, her gentle expression.

The redhead bites her lower lip and leans over the table. Stiff fingers curl around Winnie’s weathered hands. The patience in her aunt’s fleeting smile makes Sera’s chest ache. 

“I’ve been... thinking about this for a while, Auntie… I want you to promise me something.” The girl’s hoarse voice cracks in the midst of the sentence. She ducks her head slightly, struggling to clear her throat. “By the time that timer stops, I want you to be out of the house and holding the rifle.”

Winnie’s eyebrows raise in both tender denial and alarm. “Sera, you know I’m not going anywhere.”

“I don’t want to end up hurting you.” Her niece interrupts, firmly as she can muster with her dying voice as she squeezes Winnie’s hands softly. “Listen, I’m… Please, Auntie. Lock yourself in the car. Hide in there, if you’ve got to. If worse comes to worst, if I _attack_ \- You will shoot me, for your own safety. Promise.” 

“ _Serafina_ -”

“Promise.” The girl repeats, meeting Winnie’s gaze with wide, pleading eyes. Tons of unspoken words whirl amongst her vision, like phosphenes without the pain.

A long, tense minute of silence hangs in between the two women. Seconds stretch on like hours, as if the wretched timer is laughing and draining time through the empty space connecting aunt and niece. 

“I promise.” Winnie exhales then, breath rueful and heavy. “...I’ll keep myself safe, for you.”

*

It’s time. 

Winnie is gone, the rifle's been whisked off the wall, and the house is locked.

Serafina is back in the bathroom, dressed in nothing but an old bra and a loose pair of running shorts. Her heart is pounding so hard she thinks it might burst from her chest.

The girl tries to take deep, steadying breaths and clasps her hands together tightly to cease their mad shaking. 

The long, piercing beep of the timer sounds from off in the kitchen. Seven solid seconds pass, and then Sera is heaving up oatmeal. The girl shivers, fighting flashes of heat and cold which duel across prespirating skin. White stars sparkle to life in the tunnel of her vision. 

That’s when the most severe, gut-wrenching pain she has ever felt in her entire life erupts within her belly, like she’s being stabbed with hot knives from the inside-out. Sera lets out a loud cry of anguish and rears up, raking her nails into her palms. Another ripple of agony shoots through her, making the girl scream as she starts to writhe uncontrollably. 

The redhead is left unable to comprehend anything except for the ugly series of cracks and pops which reach her ears next. The noises are coming from her own body; horrible sounds of breaking bones and dislocating joints. Until the pain suddenly dulls, and Serafina moans in relief as she slumps over the sink, mindless of the way her head knocks against the faucet. She pants and lifts one trembling hand against the mirror, only for a strangled gasp to be ripped from her lungs.

Her irises, normally a deep shade of chocolate-brown, are _glowing_. The girl screams in panic this time, icy fear twisting her insides into knots. Her eyes are almost bioluminescent, shimmering with a radiant, emerald-green aura. 

Excruciating pain then tears into her chest like the giant fangs of that damned wolf. Sera cries out as a searing pain abruptly explodes throughout her skull, like an unseen hand taking a red-hot railroad spike and driving it through the bone.

Her right hand gradually cramps, bones crunching one at a time before the left follows suit. Her feet ball up, toes curling and breaking. With another sickening crack, the redhead’s nose begins to bleed as if she's just been punched square in the face. Blood dribbles down her chin as her teeth shift over, jaws agonizingly lengthening.

All cloth is shredded to pieces. Bones bend and shatter, visibly rippling beneath skin which flexes like cheap rubber as the body welcomes something new and feral. Serafina screams and thrashes about in unbearable agony, curling into the fetal position and clutching at her throbbing head as she sobs into the floor.

Pained tears stream down her cheeks. Her breathing is shallow and labored. Her vision is left blotched with violent colors that move and merge without pattern or design.

 _She isn't sure when the pain finally ends, whether it's lasted minutes or hours. She can't remember rampaging throughout the den, or slamming down the locked front door heedless of the splinters it drives into her new snout._ _But there is a certain joy she experiences that night, even if she can't recall it. Dashing through the forest, with the full moon's light streaking over her fox-red pelt in serene splashes of silver._

 _For the first time in her life, she tastes what it's like to be truly wild, unbound, and_ **_free_**.


End file.
